empty, english version
by stachelchen
Summary: This is my first fanfiction translated from German into English. So please better do not mind the mistakes in it . It's a sad story, so I chose the genre 'Drama'. Everything is happening after the fifth book.


The wind rattled on the jalousies. It blowed around the quoins and spun the first fallen leaves of the beginning autumn. Heavy raindrops were pattering against the windows.

Startled he opened his eyes. Where was he? Why was there such a storm outside and that in mid-summer? He tried to get up but it was already difficult for him to lift the upper part of his body. He percieved that he was shaking. It had become cold. Meditative, he eyed his hands in the dim room. They were as white as a sheet and cold as ice. His gaze wandered away from his hands into the room. The walls were white, there was no picture hanging on them. There were only a small, narrow window and a door with an small fanlight, through which neon light was flooding.

Gradually he sensed his feet again, which had remained uncovered by the bedspread while he had been sleeping. He looked at his watch. It was 6.30 in the morning. He got up, felt the cold laminate under his feet. He peered around but he didn't see any of his things lying there, not to mention an armoire. He went over to the window. Slightly surprised he noticed that he was still in his jeans and t-shirt, which he had worn on the day before. Why hadn't he slept in his pyjamas?

He lifted his hand to pull the jalousie up. It was partly broken by the intense wind. Through the holes in it he could see that it was pitch-black outside. Carefully, he pulled the rope to heave the jalousie. It got a little brighter in the room while he was slowly moving the cord downwards. A little bit later he watched into the sky which was full of black clouds. He looked down the street without expecting to see something. He didn't see a human being. Only deep, grey puddles into which heavy raindrops were steadily falling.

Suddenly he noticed voices which seemed to come from the corridor outside the door. Just as he had turned around he heard a key being turned around in the keyhole. He was standing in the middle of the room when the door slowly opened. The face of his grandmother appeared in the grey door.

'Neville, dear? Are you already awake?'

He nodded slightly and looked at her with an afflicted glance. Without having closed the door behind her she walked slowly towards him and examined him considerately. What had happened which made him feel so lonely, although he had company?

'Look at you, you don't wear socks! Don't you feel cold?'

While she was rummaging in her carpetbag he stared at the point where her face had appeared before.

'There you have a pair of socks, you don't catch a cold, my dear!'

Without saying a word he took the socks and went back to his bed. He sat down and put them on. Still, he had cold hands and feet. He emptily looked at the floor. Where was he?

'Neville?'

Startled by the voice of his grandmother he became conscious of himself. He shook his head slightly which caused him pain. He felt incapable of saying only a word to her. Seeking for help he focused his glance on his grandmothers eyes. He saw tears shining in them.

He wanted to get up but she went up to him and with shaking hands, she held him off.

'Just keep sitting. It's the best.'

She kneeled on the floor in front of him and laid her cold hands on his.

And suddenly he became aware of everything.

It was his mother's birthday. He wanted to visit her in the hospital. When he came there with his grandmother there was an awful chaos. Nobody could tell them in which room Frank and Alice Longbottom were lying. Nobody knew what had happened to them. However he sensed that something terrible must have happened. At the moment he had entered the foyer of St Mungo's he had felt uneasy.

'Do you understand?'

Again he shook his head. A faint 'What?' he could manage.

'Please stay here while I'm getting some food for you. I'm sure you're hungry.'

She took her hands off his.Without any objection he let her go. He felt neither hunger nor thirst. Actually, he felt absolutely nothing. Only that kind of emptiness which couldn't be filled with a glass of water or a bap. Nor with words. What had he seen when he had entered his parents' room?

He couldn't remember. Nothing he had seen the day before was present in his mind. Except for what had just flashed by his inner eye. But what had happened afterwards? Emptiness.

How long he had sat there, he didn't know. What he had been thinking, if at all, he wasn't aware of. Seconds, minutes, hours; time passed by, but how much, he didn't care. It didn't matter.

After some time, his grandmother came back. She held a small tablet in her hands. The glass of water on it was half-empty. The tablet was shaking so extremely that some of the water splashed out.

'Here's something for breakfast. It isn't much, indeed. But I couldn't get more.'

The bap was soaked through with water. But he wouldn't eat it anyway. Nothing could fill the emptiness.

'Please eat.'

He looked at her face, which was covered with tears.

She looked lost. So lonely. So empty.

Like him.


End file.
